


Oh, Calamity!

by orphan_account



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-03
Updated: 2016-07-03
Packaged: 2018-07-19 22:47:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7380595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the end of a night with Ashton, Michael gets a call from his ex.</p>
<p>One-shot based on ATL's song</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oh, Calamity!

Ashton gets up to put his clothes back on. He gives Michael a look, asking for what he was promised.

            Michael is about to reach for his pants on the floor when he hears his phone buzzing. “Just give me one second?” he says.

            Ashton nods and picks his shirt up from the ground, turns around to put it on.

            Michael gets his phone from the table and looks at it. Jesus. It’s him. Why is he calling? “This might be a minute,” he says, looking over at Ashton’s bare ass just before he wiggles his underwear on.

            Ashton looks over his shoulder and nods at him: _It’s fine. Go on._

            Michael looks back at his phone, swallows hard, answers. “Hey.”

            “Hi, Michael,” Calum says. “I—”

            “How are you?”

            A pause. “I’m fine. You?”

            “All right. How’s Luke?”

            “He’s good. Sleeping.”

            Michael imagines the gorgeous iceberg-eyed federal litigator next to Calum in bed. “It’s late.”

            “It is. Listen, I called to let you know all the papers are through. We don’t have to worry about it anymore.”

            Lovely. Now they’re officially, one hundred percent divorced. “That’s good.”

            “Thank you for signing everything.”

            “Sure.”

            Another pause. “You taking care of yourself?”

            Michael almost scoffs, but holds it back. “Yeah. I’m doing well enough.”

            “Everything good at the office?”

            “I’m actually not working right now.” _All I do is sit and count the miles._

            Pause. “Why not?”

            Michael rubs a palm over his cheek and leans forward, elbow on his knee. He tries not to let his voice shake. “You know why.”

            Ashton is dressed. He hears the way Michael’s voice has changed. He looks at him, catches his eye. Michael shrugs at him: _Eh._ Ashton tilts his head: _You sure?_ Michael shakes his head. Ashton climbs back onto the bed and sits next to him, hoping he doesn’t seem like he’s intruding on Michael’s privacy. Michael gazes at him for a moment, then gives him a little fake smile.

            “Still?” Calum asks.

            “Of course. Forever,” Michael answers.

            “Michael…”

            “How could I not?” _I can’t do what you did so easily. I can’t just fall in love with someone else in a snap. I can’t just leave the life we had together because I want “change” and “stability.” Those are exactly opposite, don’t you see? Can’t you see me?_

            “I don’t know, Michael.”

            “Neither do I.”

            Calum sighs. “You need to be happy. You need to forget…”

            “Forget what? The Philippines?”

_They spent two weeks on a tiny private island in the Philippines, two years ago. They’d swam in the brilliant blue water, boated in to visit the mainland and the jungles, eaten the most incredible and bizarre food they’d ever laid eyes on, and yet still spent most of their time in their little temporary house with each other. The number of times they had to change the sheets was countless. It was the first real trip they’d ever taken together and the start of many more._

            “No, Michael. I’m saying—”

            “Switzerland?”

_One week, this time. Castles, libraries, cathedrals, monuments, the Jet d’Eau in Geneva, the boardwalk on Lake Lucerne, three of the nearly forty museums in the City of Art, the cobbled lanes and little shops of Bern. A daylong course in a chocolatier’s private kitchen learning how to heat and temper and mold and infuse and dip and mostly eat the most delicious chocolate in the world. Calum had said plenty of times that Swiss chocolate was to die for, especially after Michael had spent minutes past midnight licking it off his skin in the dark._

            “Do you remember that?” Michael continues.

            Calum sighs again. “Of course I do. Switzerland was beautiful.”

            “You haven’t forgotten. How could I? How could I ever?”

            “You—”

            Michael interrupts him again. “Napa?”

_Their one trip to America. Michael had said over and over again that he wanted to do “the thing where they squish the grapes with their feet in the big bucket”. And one day Calum had come home and surprised him with tickets to California and told him they were leaving the next day. He wouldn’t let Michael make love to him that night—he said he wanted to wait. And they’d flown to Napa and they’d gone straight into the hills to do the thing Michael always wanted to do. Michael complained through his laughter the whole time. Their toes were stained purple as they curled under that night when Calum said it was time._

            Michael’s one trip in America, anyway. Now Calum is there again, East Coast, maybe for life.

            “Yes, Michael. I remember.”

            “Is it not a fond memory?”

            “Of course it is.”

            “And what about Spain?”

_Three nights on a mountaintop at one of Spain’s largest observatories. The stars were innumerable, sparkling, awe-inspiring. Michael stared up at them for an indefinite amount of time until Calum said how pretty his eyes were with the reflection of the constellations in them. Michael turned to him and they’d kissed under the velvet blanket dotted with diamonds. Three nights in a row._

            Calum’s voice is quicker, lower. “I remember Michael. Of course I remember. It was perfect. All of it.”

            “Then what made you leave?”

            “Michael. It’s been four months.”

            “What reasons did you have?”

            Calum sighs again. “I told you I wanted stability. Someone—a life where I could have a good steady job and—”

            “Someone else who knew what they were doing? Someone better than me?”

            “Stop it, Michael. You can’t be angry.”

            “I can’t be angry? Calum, you’ve given me every—”

            Ashton’s hand is on his arm. Michael cuts off and looks at him. His pretty hazel eyes look softly into Michael’s and say _Don’t. You don’t need to._ Michael swallows again and nods.

            “Calum…I’m not angry. I’m just…confused.”

            “I understand. But, Michael, we had our fun. It was great. I loved you. But…what we were…that’s just not me anymore. Going all those places and…that’s not me.”

            _Where we’ve been is who we are._ “It is.”

            “It’s not.”

            “Okay.”

            “It’s not that I fell out of…”

            Michael waits for him to continue. He knows Calum was about to lie. “It is, though. That’s why.”

            “Okay. Maybe a little bit but you shouldn’t take that so personally. I thought that in you was everything I wanted but…Jesus. Michael. Don’t make me say this.”

            “You were everything _I_ wanted.”

            “I…I know. I’m sorry I couldn’t…feel that.”

            “Me too.”

            This time Ashton’s hand is on his back, rubbing a little. Michael has a second to think that maybe Ashton can hear all of what Calum is saying too. Maybe Ashton feels bad for him. Or maybe Ashton just understands. It’s nice of him to comfort him. That’s not his job, but he’s doing it anyway.   

            Calum says, “Listen…I should go. I just…wanted to let you know about the papers.”

            “Okay. Thank you.”

            “Please, Michael. Take care of yourself.”

            “I still love you.”

            “I know. It’s time to let it go.”

            “I can’t.”

            “I know. I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”

            _Come back to me_. “All right.”

            “Goodnight, Michael.”

            “Goodnight, Calum.”

            Michael keeps the phone to his ear for a while, and it seems Calum does too, because the call doesn’t end for another few seconds. But then Calum hangs up, and Michael lets his hands go to his lap.

            “Is everything okay?” Ashton asks.

            “Not really. But yes.”

            Ashton nods. “I’m sorry.”

            Michael looks at him and gives him a terrible, sorry smile. “Me too.” They look at each other for a second before Michael blinks and says, “Oh. I forgot. Sorry. Let me just—” He goes to reach for his pants again.

            Ashton puts a hand on his thigh. “No. It’s fine. You don’t need to pay me.”

            Michael turns back to him. “Are you sure? I really should.”

            “No. Don’t. I couldn’t.”

            “I…all right. Thank you, then. If you won’t let me pay you.”

            “Give me a hug instead.”

            Michael blushes. Ashton has his arms out and Michael leans into them. Ashton rubs his back and holds him tightly. Michael takes in a deep breath and presses his face into Ashton’s shoulder. And then Ashton kisses his cheek and pulls away.

            “Thanks,” Michael says, but it’s barely a whisper.

            Ashton smiles at him. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

            Michael shakes his head. “No. Thank you.”

            “Mhm. And um…can I see that?” Ashton nods down at Michael’s phone in his hands.

            “Wh—uh…I guess.” He gives it to Ashton.

            Ashton taps around for a while, then hands it back. “Here’s my number. _My_ number—not the service. If you ever want to talk.” He shrugs.

            Michael’s mouth is open a little. He can’t really think of anything to say. But he’s happy. Ashton is…really nice. Has been the whole time he’s been here. Maybe that’s what Michael needs right now. Someone nice. Someone to talk to. “All right.”

            “And I promise—I won’t make you pay me the next time or the time after that or ever.”

            Michael blushes hard. “I, uh…I don’t…”

            Ashton just smiles and kisses his cheek again. “Give me a call or a text or whatever you prefer. I’ll answer. I’m free Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Sundays. And random times otherwise but you know.”

            “I’m free always.”

            Ashton grins. “Good. Then you better call.”

            Michael is still red but he smiles. “I will. Thank you, Ashton. Is it Friday? Today?”

            “Today is Monday,” Ashton says with a sideways smile on.

            Michael raises his eyebrows and shakes his head. “Jesus. I’m out of it.”

            “You know what? Don’t even call me. Meet me at…do you know the coffee shop just around the corner? Out the building and then left and down two blocks?”

            Michael nods, trying to keep from widening his eyes too much. What’s happening? He asked for an escort and now he’s getting a friend and a therapist and maybe something else too. “I know it. The one that’s not Starbucks.”

            Ashton giggles. It sends tingles up Michael’s spine for the first time in a long time. “Yeah. That one. Lunch? Noon?”

            Michael puts a hand to his head briefly, trying to comprehend what just happened—this is the first time he’s been asked out on a date since he met Calum. The four months of them not being together have consisted of loneliness and intermittent eating and horror films because they were the only ones he didn’t cry at and an escort once a week. A thought comes to mind: “Is Ashton your real name?”

            Ashton laughs again. “Yes. I think the fake name thing is kind of…” he tilts his head side to side, “low-class, if you get what I mean.”

            Michael smiles and it feels really nice. “Yeah. I get it. Good. I like that name.”

            “Michael is a holy name.”

            “Is it?”

            “Mhm. A saint. Or, the word I like better, an archangel.”

            Michael sticks out his lower lip. “I didn’t know. And archangel does sound cooler.”

            “Right? So can you meet me at noon or what?”

            Michael blinks and nods rapidly. “Yes. Yes I can.”

            Ashton smiles and nods back. “We’ll work it out, okay?”

            Michael raises an eyebrow. “Work what out?”

            Ashton doesn’t say anything for a moment. Then he leans over and kisses Michael’s cheek one more time, a little closer to his lips, before he gets up and goes to the door. “See? You’re already halfway there.”

**Author's Note:**

> Any quotes, song titles/lyrics, and things of that type are not my work and I take no credit for them (though I do thank those who made them for their incredible artistry).


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